


Ancient cities

by KeepGoing



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: "you wanna spread a blanket out and look for shooting stars next?", Confessions, M/M, Mexico, ian wants to be with mickey, mickey is scared ian will leave, mickey's escape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8810434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: Under the Mexican sky, Ian and Mickey make some confessions to each other.





	

“I wanna see the ancient ruins of the Mayan cities.” 

Ian’s words escape his through his lips as does the smoke from his last inhale of cigarette. Mickey laughs and turns his head across the blanket that isn't doing much to create a barrier between his skull and the rocky ground. 

“Leave it to you to wanna do something nerdy when I’m tryin’ to outrun the fuckin’ cops.”

Ian turns his head this time toward Mickey and his smile is so bright in the light of the Mexican moon above them and it's so blinding Mickey has to roll his head back and look up into the scattered stars above him because as easy as it is to get sucked into this moment; all the moments he’s had with Ian since he’s escaped; he knows this isn't forever. Ian can't stay forever.

It's not something they’ve talked about. Mickey is too fucking...scared...yes fucking scared...to even ask. It took all he had inside himself to even ask Ian if this was goodbye when he pulled up beside him in the Jeep back in the South Side. But Ian’s been knocking down his walls since the first moment he had him pinned to his childhood mattress and as soon as Mickey saw those eyes in the winter sunlight through the chain fence under the high school bleachers, he felt whatever was left of the bricks he had built around himself slowly crumble. 

What Mickey had told Ian was true. He was under his skin, and there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it anymore. And he knew he had to get out of Chicago. He knew staying, even to say goodbye to Ian was dangerous, but he had to. He had to see him one last time. If it was the last time he had Ian in front of him, he promised himself he would let the redhead know just how much he still thought of him...and always would. 

Mickey never expected this. To be laying on a blanket under a Mexican sky with beers in their hands and cigarettes between their lips and their index fingers curled around each other between them, was not something Mickey imagined when he had planned his great escape. He expected to see Ian, for him to tell Mickey to fuck off, that he was better than all the hoodlum south side trash shit Mickey had always been and brought with him wherever he went. In a way, Mickey wonders, if he would have rather, had that, than this. 

Because this...may hurt worse than anything. To know he had all this with Ian...and then have it taken away. It was hard enough the first time. Mickey barely made it. Yeah, he’ll admit it. He thought about picking a fight with the wrong asshole in prison just to get offed. Anything to get away from the pain; from the memory of Ian’s face the last time he had come to see Mickey. The way he lied behind the thick glass telling Mickey he’d wait. 

And for a split second, that night at the Marina, when he saw Ian had shown up, Mickey thought maybe Ian had waited. But then he spewed shit out about boyfriends and having his shit together and Mickey knew the truth. He had left Mickey behind a long time ago and Mickey was just catching up to him after running after him for so long. They just happened to be meeting in the same place and the same time, but they’d never actually be in the same place ever again. 

Truth is, Mickey has no idea what Ian is doing here. He keeps sneaking little looks at the younger man as he chain smokes and just stares up at the sky and Mickey can't help but wonder if this is going to end in flames when they both realize this is just a manic episode and whatever Ian thinks he feels isn't real. It's not something Mickey wants to think about. But it's reality. And neither of them can live in this bubble much longer. 

“Listen….” Mickey begins. 

“Don’t.”

Mickey snaps his head to look at him and Ian just continues looking up. 

“The fuck you mean, don’t?”

Ian sighs, a little bit of annoyance in the way he does it with a bit of a smirk on his face as well. “I know what you’re gonna say. It's been written all over your face ever since I got in the Jeep back in Chicago. I know what you’re thinking…” Ian finally turns to face Mickey, that smirk still on his lips. “No matter what, Mick, I still know you.” 

“Yeah, tough guy? Then tell me what I’m thinking.” Mickey spits out and he feels the walls rebuilding themselves and he hates himself for it. 

“You don’t get why I’m here. Why I came. Why I’m staying. Why I wanna stay.” Ian talks and Mickey feels his chest tighten at the way is just looking into him in a way he always could. It's familiar and terrifying. “Bottom line Mick, you had my back more than they ever did. My family, whatever friends I had. I know they look at me, still, even with my shit together, and are just waiting for me to turn into Monica. Waiting for the next episode. Waiting for me to prove them right. But you never once looked at me like that. You never once took my what was happening to me and made it about you. Or your fears. Or your sadness. And I know what they are all probably thinking and saying. Maybe even what you're silently thinking and feeling. That this is me...flipping out again. But it's not. I’m here because I want to be. I want to be with you. No one makes me feel like you do. Being with you...nothing makes me feel more like myself. Like I’m alive. So yeah, that’s why I’m here, Mick. Because I want to be. Because I want you.” 

Mickey swallows, his cigarette finally burning to the filter and scorching his finger. He flicks it, never taking his eyes off Ian. “I love you...you know.”

Ian smiles again and Mickey needs...to turn his eyes away but he can't. He’s missed that smile. For so long he went without it, and even if Ian ends up changing his mind or the cops catch him or he ends up dying in a field of gunfire trying to outrun them, he knows that smile is the last thing he will see before he takes his last breath. And every minute of this would have been worth it. 

Because Mickey never knew what it meant to live for something before. Not until he met Ian. 

“Of course I know. Why do you think I’m here, asshole?” Ian rolls a little onto his side and leans in, planting a clumsy kiss against the side of Mickey’s mouth. “I love you too.” He whispers. 

And just like that, Mickey’s walls are nothing but dust around them and he rolls his body onto Ian’s; their mouths crashing together with full lips and long swipes of tongues. Mickey realizes how romantic it all is; the blanket, the stars, the running from the cops; but all he can feel is Ian’s erection through his jeans as he presses him down into the rocky dirt and Ian’s fumbling with the button of his jeans and its hands and legs tangled and more tongue and soft pants of breath and obscenities whispered between them and Mickey suddenly doesn't care how romantic or gay it all is. Because he is. He’s gay and he has the man he loves underneath him and he doesn't give a shit about anything anymore other than the man’s body and mind and heart and everything else Mickey’s fallen in love with about Ian over the years. 

Mickey rides Ian under the star filled Mexican sky as Ian’s blunt nails dig into his hips and Mickey hears the whispers into the air of how much Ian’s missed him. How nothing ever has or ever will feel like this. And love. Mickey hears the word love chanted over and over and Mickey vows in that moment to show Ian any fucking ancient city he wants.


End file.
